


With Thanks to Dionysus

by msraven



Series: Trope Bingo Round 3 Blackout [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Getting Together, In Vino Veritas, M/M, protective!Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Worrying about you is no longer my responsibility.</i>
</p><p>Where a party, some wine, and a protective instinct leads to the best beginning for Phil and Clint.</p><p>A fill for the "in vino veritas" square on my trope_bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Thanks to Dionysus

**Author's Note:**

> Sangria: A beverage typical of Portugal and Spain that normally consists of wine, chopped fruit, a sweetener, and a small amount of added brandy.
> 
> Thank you to kultiras for helping me ensure this meets the prompt. ♥

"Welcome to Avengers Tower, Agent Coulson."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Phil replies, unable to keep himself from smiling. He doesn't think he's ever been officially welcomed into the Tower before. 

The past several months since Phil's non-death was revealed to Avengers has not been easy, but they seem to finally have found their balance – another alien threat doing wonders to ease the tension. Phil had been pleasantly surprised when, after landing in New York the day before, he'd received an invitation to a Stark Industries party being held at the Tower.

The elevator doors open and Phil lets his smile widen as Pepper approaches with open arms. He accepts her hug easily before reaching an arm out to shake Tony's hand. 

"Agent."

"Stark."

"Phil. We're so glad you could make it," Pepper says brightly. She sweeps her eyes over Phil, who's wearing one of his dressier suits, but has foregone a tie for the evening. "You look great."

"Thank you and thank you for the invitation. May I ask the reason for the festivities?"

"Who needs a reason to have a party?"

"Most everyone in the world, but you, Tony," Pepper responds fondly before turning back to Phil. "A bit of this and that. We wanted to thank all of the other agencies for their support during the incident last month and to celebrate Stark Industries beginning to re-supply the military again."

Phil's eyebrows go up. He had not heard that bit of news since returning to HQ. 

"Bored now," Tony says with a dismissive wave of his hand, wandering away when he spots Banner across the room. 

Pepper rolls her eyes fondly and places her hand in the crook of Phil's arm, steering him towards the bar. "Let's get a drink."

Phil waits until they both have glasses of wine in hand before returning to the previous subject. "I have to admit that I'm surprised you're willingly going back into the weapons business."

"Last month made it clear that we can't just leave the other branches to fend for themselves. SHIELD and the Avengers won't always be first ones on scene."

"That's very world-centric of you."

Pepper shrugs. " _Not_ thinking of the world has gotten us in enough trouble. Besides, we've learned our lesson. We're not walking into this blind and this time, we have someone we know we can trust to oversee everything."

"Banner?"

"Oh no," Pepper laughs. "We love Bruce, but he spends as much time with his head down in the lab as Tony."

The real answer is obvious now that Phil really thinks about it. "Clint."

"Yes! Clint has the perfect mix of positive and negative experiences with the military and those eyes of his really do see everything. He hides his intelligence well, but there are definite moments when I'd rank him above Tony and Bruce combined. And don't get me started on his loyalty. It took us _months_ to convince him to leave SHIELD and even then I'm not sure we would have succeeded if the truth about your death hadn't come out."

Phil can't quite keep the flinch at bay and Pepper winces sympathetically. "Sorry. I probably could have phrased that better."

"It's okay. It was a rough time all around, but Barton and I have done a lot of talking and we've been friends long enough that we'll survive even this. I have never doubted Clint's loyalty and, SHIELD or no, I know he'll always have my back when I need him."

Pepper's eyes narrow and Phil braces himself for her usual inquisitive, and often too insightful, questioning, but is saved by Tony's yell from across the room. Pepper excuses herself with a fond eye roll, leaving Phil to sweep his eyes over the other guests in attendance. He spots Clint almost immediately, Phil's stomach doing an extra flip at seeing the other man in a grey-on-grey three-piece suit, with the usual suit coat replaced with a leather jacket that Phil's fingers itch to touch. 

Phil had long ago learned to live with his physical attraction to Clint Barton, setting it aside to focus on their friendship and ability to work flawlessly together in the field. Phil would never trade anything for his years serving as Clint's mentor-handler-confidante, but it doesn't keep his stomach from doing another flip as the man in question turns to smile at him. Clint says a few more words to the couple he's standing with and then makes his way over to Phil's side. 

"Looking good, sir," Clint compliments and Phil wonders if he's imagining how Clint's eyes linger on the exposed hollow of his throat. 

"Likewise," Phil replies and then notices the glass in Clint's hand with a frown. "You're drinking?"

"Sangria. Bruce made it."

Phil can't keep his frown from deepening. It's not a widely known fact, but Clint doesn't normally drink – partially due to a fear of becoming his father and partially due to his inherently private nature. Alcohol lowered Clint's inhibitions, more so because of how little he normally drank, and there were very few people the archer was comfortable enough with to fully lower his guard.

"Is Natasha here?"

"No. She's still on assignment with Steve."

"But you're..."

"Oh." Clint holds his glass up with a shrug. "I work for Stark Industries now, figured I should at least look the part."

"Are you sure that's–"

"Sir, it's okay," Clint interrupts. "I watched Bruce make it and I've been nursing this one for a while. Plus you know by now that it won't impact my aim. If we get called out, I promise I'll get someone else to fly the quinjet."

Phil knows that a small, or even a large, amount of alcohol won't impact Clint's aim. He had once watched Hawkeye, on the verge of starvation and drugged up to his eyeballs, hit a target the size of a ping pong ball to destroy the enemy base they'd just escaped from. He'd then stood guard over Phil, not collapsing until Natasha and the rest of the SHIELD extraction team had come for them.

"I've never worried about your aim."

Clint smiles, small and tinged with a little sadness. "You're here for a party, sir. Worrying about me isn't your responsibility anymore, remember? Relax and have a good time."

There is nothing bitter or otherwise mean-spirited in Clint's comment, but it still causes a pang in Phil's chest. When he smiles, he knows it matches the sadness in Clint's.

"Sorry. Old habits."

Clint starts to respond, but is held off by Sitwell and Hill joining them. Phil takes Clint's advice and pushes all thoughts of SHIELD and work out of his mind – even taking a turn on the dance floor with Pepper and Maria. But despite his best intentions, Phil remains hyper aware of Clint throughout the party. He knows that Clint has sipped his way through two glasses of Sangria and holds a third in his hand, that Clint is feeling loose enough that Phil has heard his laughter ring out much more than he would normally expect. Nothing happens that trips Phil's protective instincts, until General McAndrews walks out of the elevator. 

They've worked with McAndrews several times in the past and, while he's a decent soldier, the man has always had a strange fascination with Hawkeye – enough to raise both Phil and Fury's hackles. Unfortunately, the general is well liked by the Joint Chiefs and can't be avoided or threatened. It doesn't mean that Phil is going to let the man anywhere near Clint while his defenses are down. 

McAndrews' eyes light up when he sees Clint and Phil is striding across the room without another thought. He reaches Clint before the general, placing a hand on the small of his back and leaning in close to speak in the archer's ear. 

"Clint..."

Phil means only to warn Clint about the general's approach, but then Clint turns to him with slightly flushed cheeks and a bright smile, eyes filled with genuine, surprised happiness, and everything flies out of Phil's head. He lets his arm slide around Clint's waist and his hand land possessively on Clint's hip before leaning closer until his breath ghosts across the other man's ear. 

"Dance with me," Phil whispers, startling himself a little. He has to acknowledge that he's had several glasses of wine during the course of the evening, but doesn't retract his offer. While Phil may be less prone to overt public displays without a little liquid courage, he sees no reason to hide and can only hope that Clint's inhibitions have dropped enough to acquiesce. 

Clint blinks a few times and then smiles shyly. "I'd love to."

Phil leads them out onto the dance floor, pausing briefly to drop their drinks off at a nearby table, and then pulls Clint into his arms. It shouldn't feel as natural as it does – considering they've never done this before – for Phil to let his hand slide away from Clint's hip to his back, to grip Clint's hand in his and bring their joined hands close to his chest, and for Clint to lay his free hand on Phil's shoulder. They sway softly to the music and stare into each other's eyes for a moment before Clint sighs, letting his hand slide across Phil's shoulders and leaning closer until they're dancing cheek-to-cheek.

"I don't need you to protect me from McAndrews," Clint says after a minute of silence.

Phil's arm tightens around Clint – it's really not surprising that he had seen the general – but Phil is done masking his feelings for Clint behind duty. "That's not why we're out here."

"It's not?"

"No." Phil takes a deep breath and intertwines their fingers where they rest against Phil's chest. "We're here because worrying about you is no longer my responsibility."

Phil feels Clint's disgruntled huff of breath as he dips his head slightly and turns his face into Phil's neck. "Took you long enough."

Phil laughs. "Brat."

Clint hugs him tight for a second before pulling back with a grin. "I think someone's had a little too much to drink tonight," he teases as Phil continues to chuckle.

"That's not why we're here either," Phil says seriously.

"No?" Clint asks with a disbelieving lift of his eyebrow.

"No," Phil reiterates, shaking his head and then spinning them when the music changes to something more up-tempo, knowing that it will startle a laugh out of Clint. Phil slows them back down to a sway, keeping Clint close regardless of what the music calls for, and looks steadily in his eyes. "The wine may have sped things up a bit, but I want to believe we would have gotten here eventually."

"Just maybe not in such a public setting?"

"Perhaps. Does it matter?"

"No," Clint responds and then takes a quick scan around the room. "But you do realize that it's now impossible for us to slip away from the party unnoticed?"

The back of Phil's neck prickles with the knowledge that more than half the room is watching them with rapt attention, but there's enough wine buzzing through his system to help him ignore it. 

"Staying inconspicuous is honestly the last thing on my mind right now."

Phil lets his eyes drop to Clint's lips, who smirks in response, slipping his hand out of Phil's hold to drape both of his arms around Phil's shoulders. They're barely moving to the music now as Phil's hands move to sit on Clint's hips.

"We can always blame the alcohol," Phil reasons unnecessarily. 

"Our levels of intoxication aside," Clint says as he leans a bit closer, "you should know that I'm deeply in love with you, Phil Coulson."

Phil gasps and pulls back to look at Clint, but his eyes are clear and shining only with adoration.

"I love you too, Clint," Phil replies in kind and finally lets their lips meet.

Kissing Clint is much like drinking Sangria – flavorful, complex, and intoxicating, with a dash of danger underneath. Phil savors the taste and knows he'll never stop yearning for more.

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
